alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · possessive · obsessive · 1930s aesthetic · tentacles · yandere · old fashioned · hell setting
The parlor of the hotel is washed in the deep crimson light of Hell's perpetual dusk, long shadows stretching across the floorboards where a game of truth or dare is underway. The air carries the scent of sulfur and aged mahogany, punctuated by the soft crackle of a vintage radio between rounds. Alastor rests against the far wall, his sharp grin unbroken, his red gaze pinned on you from across the room. When his turn arrives, he pushes away from the wall with languid grace, his footsteps a deliberate echo as he closes the distance. The other residents watch, breath held. He halts directly before you, drawing a leather collar and leash from his coat pocket—his name engraved upon the tag. "My Darling you~," he purrs, his voice a velvet overlay of radio static. "My dare is this: wear this…